Unravelling Threads
by Sam Carter O'Neill
Summary: Written before 'Threads' aired based on spoilers. SJ


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing…

**Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**A/N:**I wrote this maybe a year ago, just before ''threads'' aired and I was spoiler-crazed! I had to write this to get it out of my system but soon threads aired and I figured it was too late to publish. Today (july 2006) I was going through my old unfinished and unpublished stories and found this. Read at your own risk! Hahaha

**WARNING:** This is based on _SPOILERS_ FOR SEASON EIGHT! Episode "Threads" and also an allusion to "window of opportunity"

…Threads…

Samantha Carter sat in the commissary of the SGC with her team—Daniel and Teal'c. She was presently staring into a half-eaten bowl of soup. She didn't even know what kind of soup it was—it could've been the most repulsive looking thing in the universe, instead of the actual pea soup that it was, and she wouldn't have known the difference. Her mind was at home, staring into a cup of tea, since that's precisely what she'd done all night last night. She couldn't help it. Something was bothering her, and when something bothered her, she stared into hot foods.

"I'm sorry, but that just happens to be the way that I feel about it...What do you think?" Daniel was saying very passionately, so passionately that Sam had to look up… and then she realized that he was looking to her for the answer.

"Um…uh… Daniel, have you tried this soup! It's actually quite--" she stopped herself as soon as her eyes drifted over to his tray, complete with half-eaten bowl of pea soup. She looked at Daniel apologetically.

"Is something bothering you, Sam?" he asked, after Teal'c got up to throw his tray away.

"… It's nothing, Daniel. Really. I just—I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night."

"And every other night this week?"

Sam looked at her soup absently again, this time with a trace of guilt. That was Daniel—the seer of all hidden personal issues. She sighed and looked up at his face. It wasn't a nosy face, just a deeply concerned friend's. "I guess I'm just…just a little preoccupied these days. Everything's just—" _out of my control…_

But a new presence at the table had interrupted her, the presence of General Jack O'Neill.

"Good morning, kids. I'm not interrupting anything here, now am I?"

Carter did her best to look like nothing was wrong, and as if he hadn't interrupted anything, "No, Sir."

Teal'c returned to the table.

"Hey Teal'c, buddy!" he said happily. He then turned to his left as he went to take a seat, "How's it goin', McHaughton?"

The recently transferred Lieutenant McHaughton was caught so off-guard by the commander of the SGC's greeting _him_, of all people. He rarely barked orders at the lieutenant, let alone wished him good morning. Immediately switching into soldier mode at O'Neill's greeting, he snapped into attention, "YESSIR!" he cried loudly.

"Right you are m'boy!" O'Neill responded, not noticing the soldier's obvious shock.

McHaughton kind of…looked around for instruction until Daniel gestured at him

to just go.

O'Neill reached over and grabbed an uneaten slice of bread from Daniel's tray. "Mmmm, bread!" he chewed the piece of Wonderbread. His eyes were closed and he had a look of bliss on his face—the man was enjoying a slice of cheap,

God knew how old, sandwich bread. "You know," he said after swallowing, "I just love bread."

Sam looked over at her CO as if he had six heads.

He opened his eyes to three faces each plastered with awe, concern, and that unmistakable look of 'Holy crap! Am I still asleep!'

"…Are you well, General O'Neill?" Teal'c was the first to speak up, his slowly humanizing face showing signs of confusion.

O'Neill looked around shifty-eyed. "Of course! What makes you say—"

"Oh, Jack, here you are! I've been looking for you all over!"

He was interrupted by the arrival of 'Kerri something-or-other,' according to Sam, some new hotshot on a new board created by the SGC. Carter loathed her. She always wore skimpy little outfits, her hair and makeup always perfect—as if she were trying to impress someone.

Jack's heart skipped a beat when he saw her approaching—smelled her maddening scent. "Well you've found me," he said, grinning happily.

The others were suspicious. What was the cause of Jack's new behavior?

"I need to speak with you in my office, " Kerri said.

Jack agreed happily and followed the woman in the direction of her office… and he didn't say goodbye to his old team…

She looked in the mirror, hoping everything was right… her (civilian) pant-suit was fresh from the dry-cleaners, she had done her hair perfectly, and her makeup was nothing too extravagant, but rather just enough to accentuate her blue eyes. But… that _thing_ … with Pete was still bothering her. It just made everything so...final. But that was what she wanted, wasn't it? Finality? No, wait! That was it exactly— Finality…

As she drove her car into Jack's large driveway, her stomach was all in knots. She exhaled deeply and stepped out onto the gravel of the driveway and closed the car door. She slipped her sunglasses off and put them inside her pocket as she walked up to his door; it was nearing dusk, anyway. She hesitated, though only briefly, as she rang his doorbell.

There was silence. She looked into his driveway again—his truck was still there. She rang the doorbell again. A few seconds later, she heard movement inside the house. _Finality_, she told herself in the brief second before the door opened, revealing a fairly ragged looking Colonel O'Neill—_General_, she corrected herself.

He was a little confused, to say the least. "Carter?"

"Hi, Sir," she answered weakly. "Can I come in?" she asked. "I really need to talk to you…"

There was an urgency and a sincerity that Jack sensed in her voice that took him almost by surprise. But before he could respond, a figure appeared from the dark inside of the house.

The first thing Sam sensed was another presence emerging from O'Neill's house. A feminine presence. A feminine presence wearing a skimpy outfit and donning perfect hair and makeup.

"Who is it?" Kerri called from the back of the house.

"It's Carter!" He said back at Kerri, then turned to Sam.

She was… stunned, was really the only way to describe the way Sam felt. There were questions racing at the back of her head at a million miles an hour. "I…uh… I'm interrupting, I'll come back later." She turned on her heel but Jack grabbed her wrist gently.

"Hey," he said softly. "I'll be back in a minute," he called in to Kerri and closed the door as he stepped outside.

"No, really. I don't want to tear you away from—"

"Carter!" He barked.

She looked at him—from the hand he'd grabbed hers with up to his brown stare. For some reason, Sam felt so embarrassed. She felt like pretending she had the wrong house and just getting back into her car and driving away to her and Pete's new house… but she also felt……… hurt…?

"What is it?" he asked softly.

He had red residue on his lips—remnants of perfect lipstick. Suddenly it hit her why he looked so disheveled.

"I—it's nothing. Forget it." She tried to get to the shelter of her car again but he wouldn't let go of her wrist. _This_ _is_ _stupid_! She thought, repeatedly questioning her reasons for coming to her CO's house—his personal space—in the first place.

"Sam," she heard Jack say.

Suddenly a high-pitched beeping filled the early evening's air. It took her a moment to realize that her cell phone was ringing. Jack finally let go of her wrist so that she could retrieve and answer her phone.

"Carter," she answered.

Jack's door opened and Carter moved a few feet away to speak to the caller.

"Hey," Kerri greeted softly. "Is something wrong?"

Jack looked up at the woman, that strong scent that usually drove him nuts suddenly becoming nauseating. "I… don't know."

"…I'll be right there,"

Jack was certain that his 2IC's face had blanched considerably. He knew something was wrong.

Carter turned to him, "That was the SGC," she said breathlessly, "My father's… dying." She looked as though she would explode on the spot. Just standing there, in her gorgeous outfit and her matching high-heeled shoes, her matching purse— her beauty in its entirety.

"…Carter," he breathed. He moved to embrace her and then thought the better of the action.

She wanted to break—to sob hysterically and never stop crying—not even as her tears became blood. Her world was falling apart slowly— thread by thread it was unraveling.

**will remain unfinished**


End file.
